


My Roommate Ganondorf

by JʼLi (kibigo)



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: But it is college, College AU, Gen, Knowing me this will probably turn into a romantic comedy, No promises regarding Sex, Probably there will be Gender at some point, Rating subject to escalate, Roommates, Strangers to Roommates to Friends to Who The Fuck Knows, but I reserve the right to take it in an entirely different direction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-09 20:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18924835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibigo/pseuds/J%CA%BCLi
Summary: Zelda is a freshman in college—but due to a clerical error she gets placed in the boyʼs wing of her co-ed dorm. Wanting to avoid the embarrassment of having to change rooms on her very first day, she tells them not to bother fixing it.Her roommate is a man named Ganondorf.





	1. My New Roommate, Ganondorf

**Author's Note:**

> I canʼt believe I actually wrote this lmao

Zelda held the oriëntation packet open before her like a gospel. ― Itʼs right this way, she said, grabbing her fatherʼs jacket by the lapel and tugging him along.

― I can walk just fine without your help, Zelda, Gustaf said, brushing away his daughterʼs hand.

She rolled her head to the side. ―  _Slowly,_  she replied—and indeed Gustaf did seem to lumber.

But the dormitory was not far, and soon Zelda was skipping up the steps and holding the door impatiently open, watching as her father slowly broke the threshold, presently. His daughterʼs enthusiasm was not reflected on his features. It had been a three‑hour drive, beginning at the break of dawn, to get to campus; they had only been welcomed by a neverending stream of tours and presentations whose evangelical attitude grated at his sensibilities; this had been followed by a decidedly meagre lunch offering and now—now it was the supreme delight of _moving_ , boxes and furniture and clothes and Nayru knew what else his daughter had packed away in their car. And then—the three‑hour drive, yet again, back home. He would feel enthusiastic again, perhaps, in a week, when he had settled in to the idea of an empty house, and no more parental obligations, and certainly no more damned cardboard boxes cluttering up the stairs, tripping him up as he stumbled blearily in the direction of his morning coffee.

He would also, quite probably, be very lonely. He put on a grim smile and tried to bear it, looking around. ― So this is where youʼll be staying, hm? he asked. White walls, riddled with tack‑holes; a damaged couch; a worn piano greeted them in the foyer. The scene looked positively communal.

― Yep! Zelda chirped, completely undaunted by the façade. Of course, she had never lived on her own before—much less in a dormitory such as _this_ —so in her mind it was all quite new and exciting. There was a table set up near the door, where the buildingʼs Resident Director sat, surrounded by stacks of files, presumably for residents—Zelda marched right up to it with all the confidence and energy in the world. Gustaf grumbled and trudged along behind her.

― Ey, halló—my name is Zelda, and— she rocked forward onto the balls of her feet, back straight, as she selected a page from her packet and presented it forward; ― —as you can see, Iʼve been placed here in Hall Rauru, so⁓!

The Resident Director looked very tired, no doubt from the scores of chipper young women she had already had to deal with today. She held out a weary hand. ― Uh, yeah, Zelda— glancing at the page, ― —Hyrule, is it? Iʼm Anju, Iʼll be your R.D., just, uh, give me a sec to find your file… She flipped through a stack of papers, once, twice, frowned, glanced back at Zeldaʼs documentation. ― …Are you sure youʼre supposed to be here?

Zelda helpfully pointed to the top‑right corner of her page, where « Hall Rauru » was printed beneath « Zelda Hyrule » in decidedly unambiguous terms.

Anju frowned and flipped through her papers again. ― Iʼm not seeing your assignment, Anju said, ― but—itʼs possible that it just got placed into the wrong stack by mistake. Hold on⁓ and then she started goïng through the half‑dozen other piles before her, glancing back at Zeldaʼs paper every few seconds as if to confirm her name.

Zelda smiled happily at her father, as though this sort of organizational nightmare was exactly what she had been hoping for on her first day at university. Gustaf just grunted. She always was good at taking things in stride.

― Ah, found you, Anju said, finally. ― Um. Well. She flipped the paper onto its back, as if in search of clarification, and—finding none—gave Zelda a quick once‑over, in all her made‑up, pink‑dress, First‑Year Princess glory. ― This is a bit of an awkward question, Anju said, ― but… You _do_ identify as a girl, yes?

― M‑hmm⁓! Zelda replied, delicately taking the sheet of paper from Anjuʼs hands.

― Right, so, Anju continued, only reluctantly passing on jurisdiction over the form, ― there must have been an error somewhere upstairs, because… right now they have you stuck in a double in the boyʼs wing. So, uh—donʼt go anywhere—Iʼll give them a call presently and get you assigned somewhere else.

― Wait… Zelda said, holding up her hand, and puzzling over the page. Sure enough, she was in section C, room 212—the boyʼs wing of the second floor. What a mistake! She looked back to Anju, puzzling. ― But what about my roommate? she asked.

― Theyʼll get assigned someone else too, Iʼm sure, Anju said. She had pulled out her phone and was now navigating her contacts. ― Or theyʼll luck out and get a single.

― …But thatʼs so _sad_! Zelda exclaimed, to an audiënce of two people who clearly did not see anything sad about it. ― Can you just imagine—? Showing up for move‑in day and—before youʼve even got the chance to _check in_ —youʼve already got a roommate requesting a transfer away from you—? Everyone else in the entire hall is out doïng Roommate Bonding and youʼre just sitting there, in your room, all alone, thinking « Oi, well, guess I wasnʼt good enough for this one person named Zelda, better luck next time I suppose »—!

― I mean, if you both turn out to be fine with it, thereʼs no _rule_ stating you canʼt share a room together… Anju remarked. Her voice tinged with uncertainty, but she clearly had a vested interest in _not_ getting the school authorities on the phone if she could possibly avoid it.

― Zelda… Gustaf warned.

― I can always request a transfer later if things donʼt turn out, right? Zelda asked. ― I feel like I should give it a shot!

― Zelda, Gustaf continued. ― I donʼt think this is a good idea… These college boys… —and he waved his hand in lieu of finishing that sentence.

― Oi, so whoʼs the man‑hater _now_? Zelda fired back. ― You come @ me with this #NotAllMen bullshit all summer and then you wonʼt even let me room with a guy? You canʼt have it both ways— _dad_.

And, forced to choose between accepting his daughterʼs feminism and her living choices, Gustaf took the easier way out. ― …Itʼs _your_ education, he said, never more eager to be on the road again, finally heading home. ― Whatever you think is best.

― Hereʼs your key, Anju said, wearily eyeing the line which was beginning to form behind the pair. ― Second floor, on the right. Thereʼll be a floor meeting at 8PM tonight—donʼt miss it.

Zelda took the key with a smile, and soon was hurriedly leading her father up the stairs. They managed to make it to her room without attracting any strange gazes. It was cozy—small—one of the beds lofted, with a desk underneath. The other lay with its desk to the side. Zelda immediately claimed the former, tossing her pamphlet upon it before turning around with soft determination. ― Alright, she said. ― Letʼs grab my stuff.

Much to Gustafʼs relief, there was no sign of Zeldaʼs soon‑to‑be roommate during the entire period that they hauled in her things. Perhaps he did not exist—a phantom. At the very least, Gustaf would be spared their awkward introduction. The last box safely deposited, he gave his daughter a quick hug. ― Okay, thatʼs everything, he said. ― Itʼs a long drive back, so—

― Yes, yes, drive safely, Zelda said. She was… a little teary‑eyed, which caught him off‑guard, stabbed for a moment by the sadness of departure. Gustaf looked away. He had promised himself that he would try to remain positive for his daughter on this day; tears were no way to get oneʼs start in academia. ― Thanks for helping me get moved in, Zelda told him.

― Of course, of course, Gustaf said. ― You stay safe out here, okay? If you need anything—call. Or, you know. If you donʼt.

― Yes, papá, Zelda replied with a smile. ― Now go on, so I can unpack my stuff. She stuck out her tongue.

― Yes, yes. And Gustaf lumbered out the door, and he was gone.

There was a moment of melancholic sadness, but soon Zelda set to work with her usual methodological precision, and by the time 6:00 rolled around, she had her entire half of the room unpacked, decorated, and put together in a neat and orderly fashion. She was also very hungry. She flopped down in her desk chair and pulled out her phone, running a quick search for restaurants nearby—the dining halls wouldnʼt be open until breakfast tomorrow.

And, at that moment, her roommate arrived.

He knocked twice, then opened the door, laying witness to the entirety of Zeldaʼs handiwork. The Princess Peach posters; the pink laptop case; the royal purple bedsheets; the stuffed Cucco dolls. And, of course, Zelda herself, puzzling over her phone in a breezy summer dress, glancing up and smiling, hopping up to meet him. He was tall—and not that Zelda was by any stretch _short_ , either—athletic‑looking, and muscular, towering over her—but not in a particularly intimidating manner.

The stranger groaned and let his bag drop to the floor. ― Youʼve _got_ to be kidding me, he said.

― Hi! Zelda said brightly, striving forward to make a good first impression—despite all evidence that she had somehow already done the contrary. ― Are you my new roommate? My nameʼs Zél‧da.

― This is Room 212? the man asked, and Zelda nodded. ― Then yeah, I guess I am. Iʼm Ganondorf— and Zelda took his hand and shook it firmly.

― Well, Ganondorf, as you can see, Zelda said, getting straight to the point, ― Iʼve already moved in, and Iʼm _rather_ famished. Are your parents here, have you eaten, and if neither, would you be interested in accompanying me to sustenance?

― Negative on all three, Ganondorf said. ― As _you_ can see, Iʼve only just arrived, Iʼm alone, and I have quite a bit of things to unpack, so—

― Oh, well, come on then, let me treat you, Zelda said. ― Itʼs no good unpacking on an empty stomach—believe me—and afterwards I would be happy to help you with your stuff. And—donʼt you think we _should_ be getting to know each other, right? Thereʼs a pizza place, like, fifteen minutes away, and there will be plenty of time after to get settled.

It was hard to say no to free pizza. ― All right, Ganondorf sighed. ― I suppose that is acceptable.

― Good. Just this way, then⁓ Zelda smiled at him, and grabbed her wallet, and together they set off into the evening light.


	2. And Weʼll Go Out for Pizzas

― So, uh, Ganondorf said, delicately removing a slice from the very large pepperoni pizza which now lay before them. They had made it to the parlour with minimal fuss, and five minutes faster than Zeldaʼs estimate; she sat opposite him, in a booth which was decidedly cozy, already wolfing down a slice of her own. ― Just to be clear… Ganondorf continued. ― You _are_ a woman, right?

― Why _does_ everyone keep asking me that? Zelda giggled through a bite, covering her mouth with a fist to keep from spewing food everywhere. ― Do I give off Vibes?

― No, uh, Ganondorf eyed her. She was incredibly well‑dressed—not to the point of beïng gaudy, but her manner clearly emphasized that it was her first day at University and she wanted to make an Impression. She must have been wearing no fewer than ten pieces of jewelry—between earrings, necklace, bracelets, pins, rings—but she managed to bring it together in a way which was actually fetching, despite the wanton wastefulness of it all. ― …I wouldnʼt say that. Nevertheless, one does not ordinarily find one such as yourself rooming in the centre of the menʼs wing, and not with a roommate such as me…

― Clarwaga mawa, Zelda cut in, then swallowed. ― Uh, sorry, « clerical error ». They assigned me to the wrong room.

― And youʼre not… bothered by that?

― Not if _youʼre_ not, Zelda smiled. ― It just seemed like something we should decide together, yʼknow? _Ghosting_ you felt a little rude—

Ganondorf sighed; it was _just_ his luck. Not as though he had come to college hoping to _escape_ the parade of women which had plagued the first eighteen years of his life. ― Well, he said. ― I… do not immediately have any proper reason to refuse. But… itʼs not _me_ I would be concerned with.

― Bollocks, Zelda said, reaching across the table to grab another napkin off the stack, hers already at this point quite saturated. ― Who elseʼs opinion matters here? You, me, those are the only relevant parties.

― And what about the entire rest of the wing? Ganondorf asked. ― School hasnʼt even _started_ yet, and youʼre setting yourself up to be the talk of the hall. You donʼt think _Theyʼll_ get to whispering? And you really want that kind of gossip?

― Since when do _boys_ care about _gossip_? Zelda asked, rolling her eyes as she turned her face to the side. She didnʼt say any more, and that was the end of that.

They ate in silence for a while—Zelda quite voraciously. Feeling a bit awkward, Ganondorf tried to pick up a thread of conversation. ― Well, I suppose it will be comforting, after a fashion, he said. ― Rooming with a girl, seeing as I grew up surrounded by sisters.

― Oh? Zelda asked, curiously. She was now well into her third piece—Ganondorf could see why she had purchased an extra‑large. ― Full house?

He chuckled. ― You have _no idea_ , Ganondorf replied. ― I realize that other cultures do things… differently, but when two Gerudo women get married, it means _twice_ the number of children.

― And, hold on, Zelda said. She was waving her crust—pointing it, more like, at Ganondorfʼs jaw. ― You were the _only_ boy? She tried to imagine it, the enormous Gerudo man before her, surrounded by two moms and a dozen sisters. She burst out laughing. ― Thatʼs hilarious, she concluded.

The conversation had not gone according to Ganondorfʼs plan. He looked around the room, for anything by which he might change the topic; his eyes settled on the pizza before them, now—with Zelda removing yet another slice—half gone. ― You, uh… werenʼt kidding about beïng famished, huh? he asked—then winced, as he realized the impropriety of the remark.

Zelda didnʼt seem to mind at all, though. ― Yeah, see, she said, napkining her mouth with gusto. ― This right here? Why I encouraged you to eat dinner _before_ unpacking. Elsewise, you mightʼve wound up transforming into a pig like me.

― The goddesses forbid, Ganondorf replied. But, the brief reprieve had given him time to come up with a hopefully less offensive topic. ― So, he asked, ― what are you planning on studying, then?

― Oh, you know, Zelda said, waving her hand, ― a little bit of everything, —which was another way of saying « nothing at all ». ― I suppose one could say that I havenʼt really decided yet. I figure that if this year I can satisfy the bulk of my general reqs, then—hopefully Iʼll have a better sense of what Iʼm interested in for next?

― That… certainly is one approach, Ganondorf said, in a very « Iʼm not judging, but Iʼm judging » tone of voice.

― Oh wot, like youʼve got it all figured out? Zelda asked, more a challenge than question.

― I daresay college is a bit too _expensive_ for me to be here and not have a reason behind it, Ganondorf told her. ― Although, I suppose for you, it is not so much of a problem to drop thousands of dollars on something “ for the experience ”?

Well, that just made her sound like some kind of elite prick. ― …I see, Zelda tutted, not having a better response. ― And what is it youʼre studying, then?

― …Art History, Ganondorf replied. He was now—finally—on _his_ third slice, which he began with typical delicacy.

The tension broke. ― Wait, seriously? Zelda laughed, nearly spewing cola across the table, but thankfully avoiding catastrophe with another well‑placed motion of her hand. ― Art History? And here I had you pegged as a stiff.

― Pardon?

― Sorry, I mean, I thought you were looking for something, yʼknow, _employable_ , Zelda chuckled, taking another sip of cola. ― Art history—?

― …Anything is employable if you are skilled enough, Ganondorf remarked, with a cool nonchalance—nevertheless betraying some admixture of annoyance and insecurity, to Zeldaʼs eye.

― You know, I can kind of see it, though, Zelda said, slowly checking him out. He had that soccer‑player look about him: athletic and handsome, and also somehow slightly _flamboyant_ , despite not wearing anything more sophisticated than jeans and a polo; he was completely unmenacing despite his size; and unseductive despite his beauty—not that Zelda would be a good judge of _that_. ― You look rather… arty.

― Mm? Ganondorf responded.

― Well, I guess youʼd probably make a pretty shitty art historian if you didnʼt have good taste, she laughed.

― Oh, Ganondorf said, wiping his hands on his napkin, and smiling. ― Youʼd be surprised.

― Itʼs a long semester; Iʼm sure youʼll get the chance to tell me _all_ about it, Zelda smiled. ― Seriously though: Art history? Why is _that_ something worth dropping thousands of dollars on, for you?

― Well, Ganondorf said, sighing, but not in a bad way, ― my grandmamás on my, uh, older motherʼs side were really devout, yʼknow? ( My mums, not so much. ) But we would still go around to all the old Gerudo temples, and the museums, and—I just think itʼs really interesting, he told her. ― Seeing how it has all evolved. I feel like that, uh, _history_ , is something we need to keep alive, and that means young people like _me_ , he pointed to himself, ― need to step up and learn it.

― Thatʼs really interesting, Zelda said. ― I mean, you listen to most people—sorry, I mean, Hylians—talk about History and itʼs all about like, making Discoveries about _dead_ stuff, but for you itʼs more about… keeping something _living_? Like, it doesnʼt sound like youʼre interested in _Progress_ , exactly, more just…

― Sustaining the conversation, yes, Ganondorf said.

― Mm. Zelda eyed the remains of the pizza, which had by this time diminished to just two slices. Neither her nor Ganondorf reached for them, despite their empty plates. ― …We donʼt have a fridge, yet, she stated matter‑of‑factly.

― Yet? Ganondorf asked.

― Oh, I _was_ planning to rent one, Zelda remarked. ― Tomorrow. Just a, little mini‑fridge… you know. But uh, she waved at the remnants, ― hate to waste food until then.

― You do realize that we are goïng to be moving heavy boxes for the next hour as I get settled, yes? Ganondorf asked. ― Gorging ourselves now would be… inadvisable.

― Oh, come on, Ganondorf, whatʼs college without a little inadvisable consumption, Zelda said. ― Thereʼs two pieces, and thereʼs, she counted on her fingers, ― two of us. Whaddya say.

Ganondorf sighed again, looking at her. ― …Youʼre goïng to get me in _trouble_ this year, arenʼt you, he said, taking a piece anyways.

Zelda just winked in reply. And so the final pizzas were ate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iʼm tired of writing things which matter so yʼall get stuck with these matterings instead
> 
> *zelda voice* sorry if itʼs shite


End file.
